


Watch and Learn

by taeminuet



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Voyeurism, camboy wonho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 08:19:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16909446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taeminuet/pseuds/taeminuet
Summary: Hyungwon purses his lips. “You think your soulmate is gonna be chill with your obsession with a porn star?”Hyunwoo chokes on nothing. It would be more impressive if he had even had his drink in his mouth, but he doesn’t, and he has to glare balefully at Hyungwon as Minhyuk giggles into Hyungwon’s shoulder.“He’s not a porn star,” Hyunwoo hisses, cheeks flaming, and then, “and it’s not anobsession.”In which Hyunwoo has a crush on a cam boy.





	Watch and Learn

“Son Hyunwoo,” Hyungwon sighs, lounging back in his seat and kicking up his feet on the seat across from him. It’s the only unoccupied seat at the table, the space next to Hyunwoo empty, and Hyunwoo looks for a long moment at Hyungwon’s kicked up legs, mildly perturbed by the bad manners. But Hyungwon only smiles at him, faux-innocence in every line of his expression. “You are literally the only man on earth who looks forward to Sunday nights.”

Across the table, Minhyuk poorly smothers a giggle, cramming the straw of his drink into his mouth and biting at it to feign drinking without choking around his laughter. Hyunwoo scowls at them both, and Hyungwon makes himself very busy sipping at his drink, barely containing his own laughter as well. Not for the first time in his life, Hyunwoo takes a long moment to reevaluate how much he loves his friends in comparison to how much of a living hell they try to make his life.

“Look,” he says, having reminded himself that yes, he does love them, even if he’s not sure why. “I don’t say anything about you two’s love life. And I could.”

Hyungwon smothers a sound into his drink that sounds suspiciously like him repeating the words, ‘love life.’

Minyhuk smile beatifically. “It’s socially acceptable for us to be disgusting,” he says.

And he’s not wrong, because when he reaches over to pull Hyungwon’s drink away and stop him from choking to death, there’s a tiny blue marking on the inside of his wrist, matching the one on Hyungwon’s own. Tiny flowers in a swirling pattern, subtle but distinct.

Less than ten minutes into freshman orientation Minhyuk had slipped out of his seat in the row behind theirs and slipped into the one next to Hyungwon, winding their fingers together and providing no explanation besides turning both their wrists up to reveal the matching marks. They’ve been inseparable since, and Hyunwoo has to admit, after being friends with Hyungwon for practically half his life, Minhyuk is a nice tempering agent. Or, at very least, pretty good at making sure Hyungwon doesn’t die because of his own bullshit.

Hyunwoo is honestly a little jealous — his is on the outside of his hip, just an inch or two below the waistband of his boxers usually, and not exactly the most noticeable thing in the world. He knows it’s just dumb luck, knows that everyone presents differently, and at least he’s not one of those poor bastards who has it on their ass or their armpit or something. It could be worse, he figures, but that doesn’t make it not frustrating.

“Not all of us have found our soulmate,” Hyunwoo says, and he really isn’t bitter about it. He has time. It’s whatever.

Hyungwon purses his lips. “You think your soulmate is gonna be chill with your obsession with a porn star?”

Hyunwoo chokes on nothing. It would be more impressive if he had even had his drink in his mouth, but he doesn’t, and he has to glare balefully at Hyungwon as Minhyuk giggles into Hyungwon’s shoulder.

“He’s not a porn star,” Hyunwoo hisses, cheeks flaming, and then, “and it’s not an  _obsession_.”

Minhyuk is still giggling helplessly, halfway to hysterics now, and Hyunwoo frowns. He can’t reevaluate twice in one conversation. He’s learned from experience that the more Hyungwon does speak during a conversation, the less likely that reevaluation is to go well.

“I mean, he does sex stuff on camera for money,” Hyungwon says with a shrug. He doesn’t finish the thought, but the implication is pretty clear.

“Wonho isn’t a porn star,” Hyunwoo says, “but even if he was, are you seriously going to judge sex workers?”

Hyungwon purses his lips again and shrugs again as if conceding the point, but after a moment he repeats, “Wonho.”

“I– shut up. It’s his screenname,” Hyunwoo says, feeling slightly attacked. “Is your boyfriend okay?”

Minyhuk has devolved into silence, shaking laughter, his shoulders heaving, and Hyungwon pokes him curiously on the cheek. “Babe?”

Minhyuk nods against his shoulder and mumbles something unintelligible, but Hyungwon makes a curious sound. Hyunwoo sighs. “I really gotta go. I’m gonna be late,” he says, and then sighs. “Don’t say anything.”

Hyungwon grins. “Have fun. Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do.”

Hyunwoo refuses to consider too deeply what that might actually put off limits.

The thing is that it’s really not an obsession. Hyunwoo’s not the type who’s going to try and find out everything he can or stalk someone because they’re pretty and they post videos on the internet. He’s usually not even the type to watch this kind of stuff, but he had been bored and curious, and when he clicked on the video link, it was to see a man about his age or a little younger in a sweater and boyshorts, blond hair tipped with blue and wearing a smile that made Hyunwoo’s breath catch a little.

And then he had lifted his sweater up to show off his body and all that breath had left Hyunwoo in a rush, because  _oh_.

So he’s not obsessed, not at all, but maybe, just  _maybe_ , Hyunwoo has a little bit of a crush on the pretty cam boy with the two-tone hair and the six-pack. And maybe he sets aside a small part of his paycheck and his Sundays nights to watch him. Maybe.

Hyunwoo is honestly so fucked.

He gets home about twenty minutes before the show is set to start. His apartment is small, and he’s glad he has his own place now because it makes it easier to strip his clothes into the hamper and just walk to the bathroom naked. He turns on the water from the outside and waits for it to heat up, glancing over at the mirror.

Instinctively, he drops his hand to his hip, brushing his fingers over the small shape there. It’s almost nonsense, a confusion of shapes that Hyunwoo only recognizes because it’s been on his body since the day he was born. They’re fireworks, three of them, layered almost on top of each other – light blue, yellow, and pink. Where they meet in the center, the colors too close not to overlap, it’s white and in the shape of a diamond.

It’s nonsense, really, but then most of them seem to be. Hyungwon and Minhyuk’s first date had been to the botanical gardens, and it was only halfway through that they each admitted they kind of hated flowers, soul marks be damned. There are stories, of course, of two famous idols who both had a music note, but Hyunwoo is positive that’s either one-in-a-million or made up entirely.

And frankly, Hyunwoo just isn’t willing to try and psychoanalyze himself or someone else based on a one-inch patch of skin somewhere on their body. He has other things to do with his time, like shower and change into sweatpants. Like get to his computer and wake it up from sleep mode.

He only has a couple of minutes now, but he knows the show will already be open. He’s learned by now that Wonho opens the show a few minutes early and spends the time just kind of doing his own thing, playing on his phone or typing on his laptop, only occasionally looking up to remind them that the show will be starting soon.

It’s kind of a charming way to do things, and Hyunwoo isn’t sure if it gets him more fans or not, but Wonho’s been doing it long enough that it seems to work for him. When Hyunwoo turns on the stream, Wonho is on his knees, playing something on his phone if his look of concentration and the movement of his thumbs is any indication. He’s in a white sweater, not quite tight-knit enough to hide his skin nor the flash of sky blue just beneath the hem, his usual choice of outfit for these streams.

After a moment, he makes a tiny noise of success and looks up from his phone, glancing just to the side of the camera. “About two more minutes and we’ll start,” he says, and his voice is as lovely as ever. “How are all of you doing tonight?”

Hyunwoo doesn’t have the message bar open, but he flips it open now, mildly amused to see the flurry of answers when Wonho is already looking back to his game as he hums in acknowledgment. Hyunwoo clicks the volume up button out of curiosity and hears the soft strains of music, accompanied with the gentle  _taptaptap_  of Wonho’s fingers.

In the message bar, he sees the sentence,  _You should be doing something more interesting with those fingers, baby._

Hyunwoo snorts a mocking laugh at about the same time as Wonho glances up and lets out a laugh of his own. He lifts one hand, trying to seem demure, but there’s genuine amusement in his eyes, like he’s trying not to just burst out in laughter at the awful line. Hyunwoo doesn’t think too hard about the swell of happiness that he feels at Wonho’s amusement.

“Fuck,” Wonho mumbles and clicks his phone off. He probably failed due to his fit of laughter, and Hyunwoo feels a little bad, but a moment later, Wonho is readjusting and there’s a smile spreading over his face. “I guess we can start just a little early, can’t we?”

Hyunwoo wants to say yes, but it seems ridiculous to. Especially with the flurry of activity in the message bar. Hyunwoo considers closing it again, because it’s not like he ever types much, but then Wonho is shifting and Hyunwoo is weak, his attention pulled back to where Wonho is stretching languidly, the hem of his sweater sliding up his abs and transforming him in an instant from adorable to something much, much more.

Wonho sighs as he stretches, flexing a little, and then settles, his eyes gleaming as he looks into the camera. “So,” he says, and his voice is leaning towards a purr, “I’m happy you guys are here, because it’s a really special night for me. It was my birthday recently, and I bought a few presents for myself…”

He trails off suggestively, and there’s a second or two of promising silence and then another flurry of messages:

_What do you have to show?_

_You got something new to play with, baby?_

_bet I could come over, and make it even more special_

_U going 2 show me ur presents?_

Hyunwoo isn’t sure why he feels suddenly annoyed. This is what Wonho was leading towards, what he wanted. Hyunwoo moves to close the message bar and then stops, his mouse hovering over the box for a moment.

He glances back over at Wonho who seems to be reading, his fingers playing absently with the hem of his sweater, and frowns to himself. After a moment, he clicks into the chat, looking at the blinking cursor for half a moment. Among the other messages, Hyunwoo’s seems a little ridiculous, but he felt like someone needed to say it.

_Happy birthday. I hope it was good._

He also donates everything he’d set aside to give to Wonho. Wonho doesn’t react for just a moment, still blinking at the chat, and then he laughs again, seemingly too startled to think to cover his mouth this time. Hyunwoo wonders if that’s just an affectation then, because Wonho seems free in his laughter, an open burst of amusement that he makes no attempt to hide.

“Thanks,” he says, and something seems more relaxed in the line of Wonho’s shoulders, a little hint of relief. “It was a good birthday.”

Hyunwoo can’t help but smile. It’s pretty rare that Wonho actually acknowledges any single, particular message in the chat, and he’s glad that this one got through.

“But, yeah, I did get some presents – a couple for myself, and one was a gag gift from a friend. Don’t worry, it’s not an actual gag,” he says, something mischievous in his smile. “I know you guys like to hear my voice.”

There’s another flurry of messages that Wonho seems to skim, but he’s already adjusting himself, reaching over the edge of the bed he’s sitting on and coming back with a box that he holds in his lap, tapping a few times at the top.

“Do you want me to open it?” he says, tilting his head.

The answer is a resounding yes, and even Hyunwoo mumbles a little, “Come on,” under his breath.

He knows what Wonho is waiting for though, and when more donations come in, Wonho laughs. “Alright, you talked me into it.”

He opens the box, and Hyunwoo can see a few condoms, their foil packets peeking up over the edge. But that’s not what Wonho pulls out. Instead, he pulls out a dildo, a bottle of lube, and a glittery pink cock ring.

“Bet you can’t guess which was supposed to be the joke,” he says, laughing to himself, and it’s so genuine, so sweet. Hyunwoo doesn’t know anything about Wonho, really, but he knows what it’s like to have friends who would definitely make him open a sex toy in the middle of a restaurant, and it makes him huff a tiny laugh.

Wonho shakes his head. “Be patient,” he says, probably to the flood of messages trying to direct him how to use his toys. “One more present.”

Hyunwoo waits for him to reach back inside of the box, but he doesn’t. He’s still playing with the hem of his sweater, and he rolls it between his fingers, little hints of skin showing. He’s teasing, Hyunwoo knows, but he’s entranced by every flash, and he knows he’s probably not the only one. Reaching down, he adjusts his dick, already half hard in his sweats, and watches Wonho pout at the screen.

“I know I don’t usually do this,” Wonho says, “but it’s gonna be kind of hard to deal with a cockring and this at the same time, so… would you guys mind if I took my panties off?”

Hyunwoo doesn’t know what the hell Wonho thought the response was going to be, but the ridiculous amount of  _yes’s_  and a few rapid-fire donations come in, making Wonho grin.

“I’ll take that as a good sign then,” Wonho says, and reaches down. He sits up as he does it, settling a little better in view, and the camera focuses almost perfectly on the way Wonho is brushing his fingertips over the shape of his cock, already half- hard in his panties. There’s a splotch of wetness on the blue, a few drops of precome soaked into the cloth near the head, and as Wonho touches himself, it grows just a little bigger.

Hyunwoo sucks in a deep breath, reaching down to drift his fingertips over his cock, the same way Wonho is teasing his own. His sweats are thicker, but he imagines it must feel similar, and he wishes he could be the one doing this to Wonho.

“I’ll almost miss these, though,” Wonho says, breathy and sweet, breath just barely hitching around the words. “They’re cute aren’t they?”

A flurry of messages, telling Wonho how he should take them off faster, how much better they’d look on the floor, and Hyunwoo groans softly. He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t help but reach up to type,

_Yeah. They look really cute on you._

Wonho doesn’t seem to be paying quite as much attention, not with his hand still brushing teasingly over his cock, thumb circling the head in slow, deliberate circles, but he glances up for a moment, and the smile that grows on his face seems genuine enough as he wriggles a little. “I know, right? I was thinking about getting a pair of pink ones, but these just look so good on me.”

Hyunwoo lets out a laugh, because he knows Wonho has to be confident to pull off the whole sex-on-camera thing, but that’s just so entirely certain of his own looks that it’s a little disarming. “I don’t think they’d look better on my floor, really, but we can give it a shot, hm?”

He shifts position, just enough to let him hook his fingers into the tops of his panties. They slide down slowly, Wonho going at just the right pace to tease, and there are more donations coming in now, trying to encourage him to go faster, and when he finally slides them down far enough for his cock to spring free, it’s with a tiny moan.

Hyunwoo has seen his cock before — there have been more than a few days where Wonho pulled his panties to the side or tugged his cock out of them to fuck his own hand on camera. But he’s never taken them all the way off, and Hyunwoo can’t help but admire as much as he can see of him – his cock, the hip angled more closely towards the camera, his thighs as he gets the panties far enough down to spread them apart, showing off.

He’s not angled quite far enough back for the camera to catch more, and there are a few prompting messages, but Wonho just laughs. “Impatient,” he teases. “Don’t you want me to take my time?”

Hyunwoo takes a deep breath. He’s not entirely sure what his own answer to that question would be, but he’s seen Wonho when he goes slow, watched him strung out and needy, and he… he can’t help but say he loves it. Now, alone, Hyunwoo can’t help but think that, yeah, fuck, maybe he is way too far gone for some man he’ll never actually meet. But he can’t help but imagine, as Wonho wraps his hand around his cock, what it would feel like to touch him like that.

Wonho goes slow, like he said, rolling his hips tantalizingly into his own fist for a few moments, a couple of soft noises falling from his lips. Hyunwoo reaches for his own cock, rubbing his thumb a few times over the head. But he’s learned better than to start in on himself too soon, mostly because Wonho has slightly ridiculous stamina, enough that he doesn’t really need the cockring at all.

But Wonho smiles softly and lifts it up anyways, rolling it in his hands. “So technically, these aren’t supposed to go on when you’re already getting hard,” he says picking up the lube and adding a bit, “but I’ve been practicing like this, and I won’t tell if you won’t.”

He grins, and reaches down, squeezing his cock gently and taking a deep breath before he begins to put it on, sliding it down towards the base. He has his eyes closed, face hard with concentration, but after a moment his eyes flutter open and he smiles at the camera, a grin on his lips. The ring is, apparently, adjustable, and he’s tightened it, just a little.

He wraps his fingers around his cock again, pumping a few times at his cock and he shivers visibly as his cock twitches slightly, spurting a weak drop of precome and visibly hardening, so clearly turned on by having a ring around his cock. Hyunwoo can’t imagine it, that kind of pressure, but Wonho has a flush going through his skin and he moans at each touch to his cock, voice growing progressively louder as he fucks his hand until he’s fully hard and dripping, precome dribbling down his fist and making the slide so wet that it’s audible through the speakers.

Hyunwoo is taking deep, stabilizing breaths to stop himself from reaching down and fucking his own hand, just like that.

“Fuck,” Wonho whines, shuddering as he rubs his thumb over the head again, gathering some of the precome on the tip. He seems almost distracted, and he’s not looking at the camera at all, like he’s caught up in the sensation, but after a moment he lifts his head and grins, lifting that thumb to his lips and licking the precome off with a slightly exaggerated moan of pleasure.

Hyunwoo doesn’t read most of the comments this time — _I’ll give you something to taste, baby_  — as he types in his own. 

_Does it feel good?_

Wonho moans softly. “Fuck, yeah. Feels really good.”

Hyunwoo is surprised. Wonho answered that one so quickly, and he’s got a soft smile on, and Hyunwoo feels his heart skip a beat for no reason, breath hitching in his chest.

“Should try it sometime,” he mumbles, almost distantly, and then– “Fuck, can I show you guys my other toy now?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, already reaching for it before the yes’s begin pouring in. He rolls a condom onto it, plastic or not, and Hyunwoo isn’t really surprised when Wonho lifts it to his mouth, licking at the tip.

He makes a little bit of a face as he does and then reaches out again, picking up something else off the bed. “I bought flavored lube for this, and you’d think I’d have thought of that first,” he says, laughing a little at himself. “Strawberry, not cherry. Because nothing says sexy like a fake dick that tastes like cherry cough syrup.”

Hyunwoo snorts a laugh, but that’s fair. And Wonho seems much more pleased with the taste after he’s put the lube on it, sliding the dildo between his lips with an eagerness that makes Hyungwoo moan, instantly imagining Wonho’s lips and how they would feel around him.

His cock twitches in his sweats, demanding attention, and Hyunwoo finally,  _finally_ , reaches down, wrapping his hand around it. He means to start pumping slow, but he finds himself going in rhythm with Wonho’s mouth, rocking his cock into his hand and imagining the heat of Wonho’s mouth, the softness.

Wonho is moaning softly, little noises of pleasure, and Hyunwoo wants to be responsible for that, for Wonho feeling good. The thought is intoxicating, and Hyunwoo knows he can come to it, knows he can get off to the thought of Wonho on his knees, moaning in pleasure. But he’s just starting to feel the buildup when Wonho pulls off, taking a few deep breaths and groaning softly.

“Mm, fuck, okay,” he says, mostly to himself, and then shifts, raising up on his knees completely. The position makes his sweater fall, covering his hips and most of his cock, but he doesn’t seem to pay any attention to that, because he’s rising up so that he can grab the lube again and reach behind him, and Hyunwoo’s breath hitches as Wonho gasps a little, arching his back and, “Mmn, fu— y-yeah. I did this earlier, but never hurts to make sure you’re well prepared, right?”

He takes a deep breath and then rolls his entire body down, breaking into a moan. Hyunwoo wants to see him stretching himself, wants to see how many fingers he has in, and he can’t, but seeing Wonho fuck himself down, hearing the little noises he makes as he does, that’s more than enough to make Hyunwoo feel almost dizzy with how much he  _wants_. He squeezes the base of his cock, taking a few deep breaths, trying to pace himself better.

After a moment, Wonho buckles down onto one hand, the dildo pinned between his hand and the bed, and he arches himself down, chest almost flat against the bed. Hyunwoo can see up the line of his back, all the way to where his hand is pressed inside of him, three fingers deep. He’s pumping them in and out, faster than Hyunwoo would have thought, and Wonho moans loudly, voice breaking a little as he admits, “I want to come so  _bad._ ”

Hyunwoo clenches, muscles growing tight, and even with his hand tight around the base, he feels his cock spurt sympathetically, precome dribbling over his fingers.

The chat is exploding, all kind of things:

_I’d let you come, baby_

_not yet, slut_

_Bet u rlly liek that cockrng now_

And Hyunwoo, stupid and a little helpless, finds himself joining in, freehand typing in jerky motions that make his message come a second after everyone else’s.  _You look so pretty like this._

Wonho gasps out a soft, “Fuck,” and Hyunwoo knows it’s probably not at him, but he can’t help but think— “I know,” Wonho whines. “You like how I look like this?”

Hyunwoo’s stomach clenches.  _Yes._

God yes. Wonho is beautiful. It’s unfair how pretty he is, and Wonho is arching his back, fucking his hips back against his hand, a breathless laugh on his lips that twists into a moan. “You want me to fuck myself?”

Hyunwoo’s jaw clenches, and god, because yes, he does. So badly.

Wonho lifts onto his knees again, and from what’s visible, it’s not hard to tell that his cock is flushed and swollen, almost painful looking, but he moans when his hand barely brushes it, hips jerking spasmodically into the touch with a gasp of, “Fuck.”

Hyunwoo bites back a moan and squeezes at the base of his cock harder, watching as Wonho settles himself, leaning up and spreading his legs, letting his fingers slip out of him. He reaches for the toy in front of him, still shiny with lube and saliva, and positions it, holding it by the base so that it faces upwards.

He lifts himself slowly, his legs visibly shaking, but when he lowers himself it’s all in one go, one slow, steady drop as he takes in the toy. He’s holding his breath, clearly, and it’s not until it’s all the way in that he lets it out on a desperate moan, head lolling back and eyes fluttering.

It takes him a moment, just a moment, and then he begins fucking himself, bouncing on the toy and letting out short little noises that turn quickly from moans to mewls to full-on whimpers. He’s halfway to sobbing in minutes, and Hyunwoo doesn’t dare move his hand. He’s so turned on, and he thinks that just a few strokes would do it, but he can’t, not when Wonho is bouncing like this, his cock bobbing, looking so hard that Hyunwoo would give anything to help him.

“Please,” Wonho chokes, and his other hand hovers near his cock like he doesn’t dare touch. There are people asking him to, a flurry of conflicting messages in the chat, but Wonho doesn’t seem to be reading, or if he is, he’s not acknowledging any of it. His legs are shaking and Hyunwoo can’t see his abs for the sweater over them, but he would bet anything that Wonho is tense with exertion.

He gasps sharply, trembling, and lets out a long almost-wail, something that shouldn’t have any right to be as pretty as it is, and then he crumples a little, catching himself on the bed with his free hand and sliding down to the base of the toy. He circles his hips quickly, desperately, and he looks halfway desperate, rutting his cock into the air as moves on the toy.

“Fuck, ah– fuck,” he groans, and they don’t feel like words so much as sounds, just something that Wonho’s mouth is doing of its own accord. He shudders bodily, obviously, and when he looks at the camera his eyes are damp with tears. “Fuck, fuck, please, I need it. Let me come.”

Hyunwoo doesn’t know what makes him type it, but he can’t stop himself.  _You look so gorgeous like this._

Wonho lets out an obvious whimper, and then he lifts his hand from the bed in one quick motion and covers his mouth to muffle the scream he lets out. He’s trembling all over, shaking apart, and his cock looks no less swollen for it, the dry orgasm clearly searing through him and offering no relief at all.

Hyunwoo moans, a broken noise, and comes all but untouched in his sweatpants. He sags a little, tension gone out of him, and he takes a moment to focus back in to Wonho, panting desperately as he comes back down.

He’s gasping for air, and his eyes look a little foggy, something distant, and he lets out a wordless whine, hand dropping from his mouth to flutter around his cock. “Fuck,” he whimpers, and it sounds almost in pain, but the barest touch to his cock makes him moan, and when he circles his fingers around it, he dissolves into broken noises.

Hyunwoo’s cock twitches, spent and a little painful, and he can’t imagine what Wonho’s going through right now, but Wonho looks so good. He starts riding the toy again, shallower now, trying to keep it inside of him, and his hand is around his cock. He’s trembling so hard that Hyunwoo isn’t sure how he’s staying up, but he’s got a dazed grin on his face, and every noise he makes is almost intoxicating.

Hyunwoo reaches forward to type again, one hand slightly sticky.  _Please come._

Wonho gasps sharply and nods. He tugs at the cockring to loosen it, rolling it off his cock, and grinds down against the toy still inside him. He doesn’t touch his cock again, but he doesn’t have to. He tips his head back and arches his back, fucking his hips down hard and fast and precise, huffing out little gasps of, “fuck, fuck, I’m—  _fuck,_ ” and then he’s gone, shooting come up his chest in large spurts and still trembling violently.

After a moment, he lets out a shaky laugh and half crumples to the bed. “Ugh,” he says after a moment, and tugs at his come-stained sweater, and tugging it off, using it to blot at his face. “Wow, okay. Both those at the same time are a lot.”

He’s laughing, breathless and sweet, and he looks so gorgeous. But that’s not what Hyunwoo is looking at.

Hyunwoo is looking at Wonho’s hip where it’s no longer covered by panties or sweater, and where there is a tiny mark that looks like complete nonsense unless someone has spent their entire life looking at it every day: three fireworks – pink, light blue, and yellow, almost overlapping, with a white diamond in the middle.

Hyunwoo fumbles for his phone, snapping a picture of his own soul mark, and before he thinks twice, he’s uploaded it to his computer and pasted it into the chat. It’s all a blur, a rush in his head.

Wonho goes stock still, and then the screen goes black.

The stream ends abruptly, without the usual goodbyes, and there’s some yelling in the chat, but Hyunwoo isn’t thinking straight. He’s staring at the blank screen, thinking about that mark on Wonho’s skin, and he almost can’t breathe.

In the bottom right of his screen, a chat pops up through the website, a single private message. They’re mostly spam, but this one has Wonho’s picture, and Hyunwoo’s breath catches.

ShinWonHo: What the fuck? What the FUCK.

ShinWonHo: Is this a joke? Why are you messing with me?

ShinWonHo: This is a really fucked up joke.

ShinWonHo: I get that I like noticed you in the chat or whatever. You’re always there and you never talk and you weren’t being a dick

ShinWonHo: But just because you said some nice shit and I responded doesn’t mean we’re soulmates.

ShinWonHo: You can’t pull this shit. It’s not ok. Don’t make me report you to the site.

> Shw92: No. Wait. fuck.
> 
> Shw92: I wasn’t thinking.
> 
> Shw92: I’m not trying to fuck with you.
> 
> Shw92: That’s mine. It’s for real. That’s my mark.
> 
> Shw92: I didn’t think. I didn’t mean to upset you.

ShinWonHo: Fuck. What the fuck.

_ShinWonHo is offline._

> Shw92: I’m sorry.

Wonho misses next Sunday’s stream. There’s no word from him at all. Hyunwoo tried one more time to reach out to him on the messenger, but he’s been offline all week. And Hyunwoo doesn’t exactly know who to contact to see if his favorite cam boy is out sick. He’s actually pretty sure that sick days aren’t a thing for them.

He feels like shit. Not only did he freak Wonho out, but even if Wonho doesn’t believe him, Hyunwoo isn’t lying. Wonho is his  _soulmate_ , and he doesn’t even know how to begin broaching that topic to, well, anyone.

By the middle of the following week, it’s not hard to tell that he’s sulking though when even Minhyuk’s friend Kihyun takes a look at him and asks, “What’s up with you, dude? You okay?”

They’re grabbing lunch during a break between their classes, and Hyunwoo isn’t exactly hungry. He’s picking at his salad, more moving it around than actually eating it, and he’s probably not exactly being subtle about it. He shrugs tightly.

Kihyun’s not wrong, but he also doesn’t really want to talk about it.

“He’s being sulky because his favorite cam boy missed a week,” Hyungwon says knowledgeably. It comes out a little amused in combination with the sympathy, but Hyunwoo’s glare, he softens. “You’re going to be okay.”

“Yeah,” Hyunwoo mumbles, but it’s more acknowledgment than agreement. He still feels guilty and lost, and his stomach is churning.

Minhyuk sighs, and Hyunwoo realizes for the first time that he’s been quiet most of this meal, not as smiley as normal. He’s sagged into Hyungwon’s side, almost like he’s tired, and Hyungwon rubs the back of his neck gently, with a helpless look that says he doesn’t know what’s going on either.

“Hyunwoo,” Minhyuk says softly, after a long moment of quiet. “Don’t you think maybe you should let it go? I mean, it’s not like you’re going to end up together. You have someone out there for you. So does he.”

Hyunwoo’s breath lodges in his throat. That’s such an odd thing to say, almost pointed. Even Hyungwon is giving Minhyuk a confused look, bewilderment crossing his face as he stares at Minhyuk, and Minhyuk shrugs. “I mean… you’re so sad about this. I just…”

He shakes his head slightly and Hyungwon drops his arm to the other side of Minhyuk’s winding their hands together and pressing their wrists flush, looking at him for a long moment. After a few seconds he says, “Huh.”

Hyunwoo looks between them. He’s exhausted. He doesn’t really want to ask.

“Who has a favorite cam boy?” Kihyun says after a long moment, and it’s quiet enough that Hyunwoo is pretty sure it’s supposed to be to himself, but he can hear it clear across the table, and his heart wrenches.

Hyungwon scowls at Kihyun even, despite the amount of teasing he does about this exact subject. “We all have our hobbies.”

Minhyuk shifts a little. “It’s… Hyunwoo, you should let H- Wonho go. I’m just… maybe it’s time to—”

Kihyun chokes on a laugh. “Wonho,” he repeats, and Minhyuk shoots him a look that is in no way subtle. “Fuck. Okay. Okay, yeah. That’s–”

Hyungwon and Hyunwoo look at each other for a moment, and then Hyungwon nods solemnly and leans into Minhyuk. “Explain.”

A little of the color goes out of Minhyuk’s cheeks. “No, it’s– listen, I  _can’t_.”

“I mean, you  _can_ ,” Kihyun says. “Hell, seriously? It’s not like– Hoseok’s gonna laugh. You know him.”

“Hoseok?” Hyunwoo asks, a little confusion in his voice. He’s honestly so lost here, and he’s too tired to be lost. He hasn’t been sleeping well, if he’s honest.

“Our… listen, I didn’t know until last weekend, I swear,” Minhyuk says, and then, “Wonho. That’s– it’s a bad nickname from when he wanted to go into modeling. I didn’t think— I had to look it up to make sure I was right, but of course he’d do stuff on camera, and–”

“Wait,” Hyunwoo says, trying to make sense of this. “You know him? You know… you…”

“Don’t have a mental breakdown,” Hyungwon says, reaching out to grab his arm. “Hey. Seriously, of everything,  _this_  is what gets you?”

“I’ve known him since I was 12,” Minhyuk says. “Almost as long as I’ve known Kihyun. We were best friends in middle school.”

Hyunwoo isn’t doing great at following Hyungwon’s directions right now. “And you’ve never—”

“I mean, we have, probably,” Kihyun says. “We just call him Hoseok because ‘Wonho’ is dumb as hell.”

“And he’s… is he okay?” Hyunwoo asks, feeling like he might genuinely be sick if he tries to string together anything more complicated.

“He’s– someone on his show. They… they did something. Screencapped his mark and tried to act like…” Minhyuk bites his lip. “He’s been freaking out all week. He’s upset, Hyunwoo. I get that you like watching him, but is it worth– Hyunwoo?”

Hyunwoo doesn’t know what his face looks like, but it can’t be good because Hyungwon’s hand latches a little tighter on his arm and Minhyuk looks like he doesn’t quite know what to do.

“That— I…” Hyunwoo feels sick. “I didn’t… that was _mine_.”

Hyungwon looks at him for a long moment, and then back at Minhyuk. “What does Won— Hoseok’s mark look like?”

“I don’t know,” Kihyun says, shrugging. “Something pink and blue and— like, have you ever seen a printer really fuck up printing something? Like that.”

“It’s a white diamond. And like… a CMYK scatter. Like in printing? Except not black,” Minhyuk says. “We talked about it one time.”

Hyunwoo feels sick.

Hyungwon blinks. “Well, shit.”

It takes more convincing than Hyunwoo is really up to right now to not have to drop trou at the table to show off his mark. Minhyuk ends up tugging him to the bathroom, looking for all the world like they’re about to do something inappropriate as he fumbles with Hyunwoo’s belt. Hyungwon leans against the wall, watching lazily, and later Hyunwoo will be infinitely proud of him for not making a joke about Hyunwoo and Minhyuk fucking at a time like this.

Hyunwoo, thankfully, doesn’t have to pull down his boxers, just hooks a thumb under the waistband and tugs that section down far enough that the mark on his skin is evident. Minhyuk snaps a picture and looks Hyunwoo dead in the face. “This is real, right?”

Hyunwoo nods helplessly. “Hyungwon saw it when it showed up. He knows.”

“The most uncomfortably close I have ever been to Hyunwoo’s dick,” Hyungwon agrees, nodding as well.

Minhyuk lets out a noisy breath. “Babe, please don’t make me think about you and Hyunwoo in that context together, or I will literally never be able to get it up for you again,” he says sweetly, and then leans back on his heels and starts typing on his phone. After a second he hits send, possibly with more force than necessary and crams his phone back into his pocket.

Hyunwoo swallows. “What now?”

“Now we wait. He has classes until 5’oclock,” Minhyuk says. “Technically so do we, but I’m pretty sure you’re going to have a meltdown if you’re more than—”

He stops, frowning, and the tugs his phone back out of his pocket. “That’s… certainly a reaction.”

Hyunwoo swallows tightly. “Is that him?”

Minhyuk nods slowly. “Pull your pants back up and I’ll tell you what he said.”

Hyunwoo rushes to tug them back up around his waist, almost pinching himself on his belt in his haste. Minhyuk is typing on his phone again, but it’s slower now, more methodical, and when he’s done, he looks up. “He says to give him five minutes and he’ll call.”

It takes closer to seven, and Hyunwoo’s nerves are shot, but when Minhyuk’s phone finally goes off, Hyunwoo realizes he has no idea what to say. Luckily, Minhyuk gives him a moment, answering the phone and immediately starting to speak in the choppy broken sentences of someone trying to reason with someone irate.

“Hoseok, I’m really not messing with you. This whole thing is weird but I literally just took that picture myself — no, yeah, he’s one of Hyungwon’s friends. Hyungw— my soulmate. Yeah. That one. Hyungwon says he saw it years ago, so — seriously? Okay, that’s a little narcissistic. No, I know, but just— Lee Hoseok, shut up and listen to what I’m telling you. Okay. Yeah. Yeah, I’m going to–”

Hyungwon reaches out a hand, patting Minhyuk on the shoulder sympathetically, and mouths, “Same,” jerking his head at Hyunwoo who is, honestly, too nervous to be annoyed.

“Here,” Minhyuk says and shoves his phone at Hyunwoo, “He’s— he’s frazzled right now. Don’t take it personally.”

Hyunwoo stares at the phone for a long moment and then gingerly takes it, lifting it to his ear. “W— Hoseok?”

“What, you’re not going to call me Wonho?” Wo— Hoseok says from the other end of the phone. His voice is a little pitchy, a lot emotional. Hyunwoo thinks absently that he still sounds beautiful.

“No?” Hyunwoo says after a second, and fidgets. Hyungwoon is clearly trying to listen in, and Minhyuk rolls his eyes at him before tugging him out of the room. They can still probably hear a bit, and Minyhuk’s probably listening to make sure Hyunwoo doesn’t do anything too stupid, but it feels less invasive, and Hyunwoo manages to gather himself a little better and find the nerves to add, “That’s not your name.”

And Hoseok laughs, a tight, surprised noise. “Oh my god,” he says, and there’s some shuffling. “I’m getting looks. I’m— fucking. I should have just gone back to my apartment, but I can’t — I film there and it feels…”

And Hyunwoo’s stomach bottoms out, leaving him with a sick feeling. “You don’t… you know there’s nothing wrong with it, right?”

Hoseok laughs again. “You’d think that. You watched me. You were there all the time, and you always — of course you wouldn’t think—”

Hyunwoo bites his lips together with a frown. “No, I mean… listen, I’m not… I did. I’m not going to make excuses. I did. You were pretty — you are pretty. But that’s… I’m not going to be a dick about it. I don’t know what would help here. I’m not just going to bullshit and say that that wasn’t you and me, because it was.”

Hoseok makes a quiet, muffled noise. He’s silent for a long moment and then, “Yeah. Yeah. I’m not— ha, you know you’re the first person who’s known about it that didn’t try and bullshit like ‘that was Wonho, and you’re you’ like somehow I grow a magical alter-ego with a camera on me?”

“You… honestly? You seemed to have fun with it,” Hyunwoo says, and then winces. He doesn’t know if that was the wrong thing to say or not. “I mean… I know you were doing it for the money, partly — you always relaxed a little more when the first tips came in, but… you never seemed like you didn’t want to. If I’m wrong, I’m sorry. I know I don’t know you like that, and I have no room to say, but it seemed mostly genuine.”

Hoseok sighs. “I mean, yeah. The cash was nice. It’s nice not being a completely broke college student. But… it was also nice just being on camera. Having people– anyways. You’re not wrong. I just didn’t – it’s why I never took off my underwear, and then I got a little cocky and you… do you know how fucking scary that is?”

“I didn’t think,” Hyunwoo says. “That’s not a good excuse or a good reason, but… I really didn’t. I just saw it and I panicked. I was thinking, if I didn’t show you, if you didn’t know–”

“Yeah,” Hoseok says. “I just… I thought you were some desperate fan, you know? Someone who’d fake that that was theirs, just to get me to sleep with them.”

Hyunwoo frowns. “I wouldn’t. I know you don’t know me well enough to be sure of that, but I wouldn’t. And… and you don’t have to sleep with me. I’m not going to push you.”

“I mean, thanks for that, but it’s not really what I’m worried about here,” Hoseok says. “I don’t know anything about you. Or you me. We learned each other’s names half an hour ago, if Minhyuk’s not bullshitting me. Hyunwoo, right?”

“Yeah. Son Hyunwoo.” It feels ridiculous. He’s seen so much of Hoseok, but it’s all been under a screenname. Hyunwoo frowns for a moment and then, “I know it was your birthday recently.”

Hoseok bursts into laughter, and it’s not even upset now. He’s just laughing to laugh, and it sounds nice, even tinny and distant over the phone.

“Yeah. Yeah, a couple of weeks ago,” Hoseok says.

And Hyunwoo knows it’s stupid, knows he’s taking a ridiculous chance, but, “Let me take you out for a late birthday dinner? And we can really talk? Really meet, face to face? We can learn more about each other than our names and that we have the same mark on our hip.”

Hoseok snorts. “You don’t even know where I live. We could be miles apart.”

“I don’t care,” Hyunwoo says at once, and then thinks about it. “I mean, I do. But…” He pauses, frowning. “Is there any way to ask where you live that doesn’t make me sound like a stalker?”

“Not at all,” Hoseok says with a laugh. “But, you can pick me up from Minhyuk’s apartment Friday at 6?”

It’s not a lot. It’s just a start. But Hyunwoo lets out a slow breath. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Good,” Hoseok says. “I’ll give you my number once we meet in person, okay? Just for security’s sake. And — Hyunwoo?”

“Yeah?” Hyunwoo asks, nerves swirling in his stomach again. His name out of Hoseok’s mouth is actually gorgeous.

“You can keep watching. If you want.”

Hoseok hangs up before Hyunwoo has a chance to form coherent thoughts.

–

From: Hoseokkie

> Lee Minhyuk. I honestly hate you.
> 
> I’m coming over to your house on Friday.

From: Minhyukkie

> Do you want a picture? So you know what you’re getting into, lol?
> 
> Attached: 1 Image

From: Hoseokkie

> What the fuck, he’s hot?
> 
> Minhyuk, he’s hot? Why is he watching cam boys?
> 
> He’s literally hot, what the Fuck.

From: Minhuykkie

> LMAO
> 
> I’ll see you on Friday~ 💕

**Author's Note:**

> Imported from [tumblr](http://taeminuet.tumblr.com).


End file.
